Martin's Secret
by Ashtrees
Summary: Martin hears voices. How will the MJN crew react when they find out?
1. Chapter 1

_I wrote this fanfic long before I joined this website. So, please forgive any mistakes and the odd chapter breaks - I had originally written this in one Word document._

_Thanks be to my sister WikketKrikket for encouraging and helping me._

_Disclaimer: I don__'__t own Cabin Pressure_

Chapter One

The crew of MJN Air had just arrived back from a trip to New York.

The return in-flight entertainment (as devised by Douglas) had been a competition to see who could buy the tackiest souvenir from the airport. Points would be given for the cheapest price and it's level of uselessness and gaudiness. Double points if the item in question broke during it's debut presentation. The prize: the combined cost of the losing competitor's souvenirs. Which wasn't going to amount to much anyway.

It had been a close call with both Martin and Douglas having brought the same item: a plushie Statue of Liberty. Only Douglas' played God Save Our Queen instead of the Star - Spangled Banner, and so Martin had gracefully accepted defeat.

Having received his reward Douglas went on to explain, in great detail over the intercom, how it came to be that God Save Our Queen ended up in the Statue of Liberty. With Captain Crieff providing the voice of Goldfinger and Darth Vader. All in all, it had been a good trip.

However, it was just after they had disembarked from Gertie and were walking through the hanger that Martin noticed a particular aircraft being inspected close by. He should have just ignored it and not said anything. But, he failed to do either of these things and for the other members of MJN that is when the trouble started. Although, for Martin the trouble had begun long before now, when he was only fourteen years old.

"I need to you to work on Saturday, Martin," Carolyn said.

Martin was not listening. He was too busy staring at the jet next to Gertie. At first it looked like any other white plane, but as they walked towards the doors, a dark bird painted on the tail fin came in to view.

A raven, Martin thought.

He suddenly felt incredibly uneasy. Carolyn might recognise the motif; but, if they kept walking she might not notice it at all. On the other hand…Martin looked up and down the plane. There was no sign of the crew about.

Carolyn snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"Will you wake up?" she asked, impatiently. "Anyone would think you've never seen a plane before."

"Sorry. I was just wondering what it's doing here?"

"It's a funny thing, Martin," answered Douglas. "But, aircraft don't stay in the air all the time. In fact, they sometimes stay in an airfield hanger. Just like the one we're standing in now, by odd coincidence. Now, if it's was in the middle of a shopping centre, for instance, then I would also be wondering -"

"Shut up, Douglas," interrupted Carolyn. "Martin, I was asking you if you could possibly bear to rearrange the next van job you've got booked in. I've tried convincing the head nun that Rome can wait until next week, but apparently it can't. And, actually, I agree with her. And, actually, I didn't bother try to convince her at all because although I'm not religious, surely a meeting with the Pope trumps meeting with an old lady and moving her cats around."

"Sorry. What?"

"Oh, for goodness sake! Douglas, fix him before I break him!"

It was during this vociferous exchange that a man in a Raven Charters uniform was busy discussing with the engineer the mysterious cause of the smell of smoke in the flight deck.

Outwardly, both men admitted that they were baffled by this occurrence. Especially the engineer who could find no reason why the flight deck should smell of smoke, or indeed, could not even catch the faintest wisp of smoke during his careful examination of the aircraft. What he did notice however was the Captain's nicotine - stained fingers and the box shaped outline in his pocket. Clearly, there had been a battled of wills with the rather stony faced First Officer, who had finally had enough of the Captain's illegal habit and radioed in an emergency. There would be arguments aplenty later on.

But, for the engineer this was just immaterial (after all he was still being paid) and in order to keep world turning, apologised for not finding anything and suggested that the Captain go on his merry way with the blessing of an airworthy aircraft.

And the Captain would have done, if he had not heard the name "Martin" being said. Of course, he had once known someone called Martin and, of course, he followed the sound of voices coming from the other side of the plane and saw the very man he had half been expecting to see.

He couldn't resist approaching them. He gave a slight smile of barely hidden amusement when he saw Martin's look of horror.

"Ah, First Officer Crieff," he called. "It's really been far too long. You are well, I hope?"

"Captain Morton James!" Martin yelped. "No, I mean Captain James Morton. It's good to see you again, sir, Captain Captain Morton, uh, sir…"

Arthur looked puzzled. "Skip, who is this?

Martin could only make some sort of croaky noise, so, Douglas chose to answer for him.

"I might be wrong, Arthur," he began. "But, at a guess I'd say that this gentlemen was Martin's captain at his last job before MJN and, in an even wider leap of logic, would suppose that his name is Captain James Morton. Or Captain Morton James. Or even Captain Captain -"

"That will do, thank you, Douglas," interrupted Carolyn. She brushed past Martin and held out her hand. "I'm Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, the CEO of MJN Air."

"James," the man replied, shaking the offered hand. "Just call me, James." He glanced at Martin. "Especially as the formalities seem to be giving poor Martin some trouble." He turned to Douglas. "And you must be the captain?"

"No. I'm just the First Officer. Martin is the captain."

"What? Really?"

Martin nodded stiffly.

James smiled smugly. "Well, I'm so glad that you're doing so well for yourself despite everything."

"What do you mean, "Despite everything,"?" asked Carolyn.

James shrugged casually. "Oh, you must know what Martin's like by now."

"Yes, they do," Martin answered, tersely. "It's been nice to see you, but you must be in a hurry, so goodbye! Don't let us keep you!"

"Martin, don't so rude," Carolyn scalded. "And as for you, Captain, we do know what Martin is like. He's made every textbook mistake -"

"Carolyn!"

"That was ever printed in any textbook. Even the ones that have nothing to do with aviation. But, so far he hasn't flown us into the side of mountain, or crash landed, so I think we can count ourselves lucky. Plus, your CEO gave Martin a glowing reference which explains rather neatly why he is now a captain in an up and coming charter airline -"

"Which airline are we talking about now?" Douglas muttered.

"And why you are stuck in Vulture Charters trying to stir up trouble for no other reason than you have a pathetic existence. Even more so than Martin's. Which is saying something."

Douglas smiled sweetly. "And she told Martin off for being rude."

All the while Carolyn had been saying these things James had stared steadily back at her with unblinking eyes. But, now the corners of his mouth twitched and Martin felt the danger in the air increase.

"Oh, my. Did Martin never tell you why he left Raven Charters? Or rather, why he was asked to leave?" James asked this question in a slow, deliberate way.

No one answered him. Except Arthur.

"No. Why?"

"James, please don't do this!" Martin begged. "We used to be friends!"

"Used to be, Martin. Used to be. Well, I'm certainly not going to give Martin's little secret away," said James, relishing the moment. "Of course, now you seem to be facing an interesting dilemma. You know that Martin started out well. A First Officer! But, then he was suddenly asked by our CEO to leave. You don't know why. But, it wouldn't have been for any light reason that's for sure. If you ask him and he tells you, what will you do? Will you let him stay on? I doubt you'd want to. However, I can warn you would be taking a risk to keep Martin in charge."

"Why are you saying all this?" asked Carolyn. "We don't have to ask Martin anything. It doesn't matter what went on at Raven Charters. What matters is that he passed his interview for MJN and is now working for me."

"That is true," James said with a thoughtful nod. Then he grinned. "But, then you would never know what happened. Could you really trust him again? Could you really work with that nagging at the back of your brain."

"Can we just leave, please?" said Martin. "Come on, let's go."

"Yes," said Carolyn. "Come along, boys. You know I don't like you playing with James. He's a bad influence."

"Martin hears voices."

Somehow that simple, three word sentence breathed out in a husky tone, sounded louder than it was actually uttered.

In the few seconds of stinging silence that followed three members of the group simply stared in disbelief at James for coming out with such a bizarre statement, while the fourth found his heart rate suddenly shooting up as panic set in.

Carolyn laughed as loud and for as long as she could. It echoed off the hanger walls attracting the attention of the downtrodden engineer.

"Oh, please!" she cried. "Make something else up! Why not say: Martin's afraid of flying!"

"Pteromerhanophobic, Mum!" Arthur added.

"Ah, yes. Arthur has been trying to improve his vocabulary. Quiet successfully I might add. Anyway, the point is stupid lies won't work - it's pathetic! Martin is the safest pilot I know."

Douglas meanwhile had been watching Martin's reaction carefully. Not that a detailed observation was needed. A cursory glance would have been sufficient to see the look of shock written all over his friend's face and the shuffling steps backwards as if Martin was actually considering running for it. He looked like he really wanted to.

"Carolyn, you might want to shut up now."

"What?"

Then Carolyn noticed Martin's face.

"Martin? It's not true! I know it isn't!"

James flashed a toothy grin.

"Oh, this is wonderful! It's good to get the truth out, isn't it, Martin? Just like old times!"

Martin took a step back, looking from Carolyn to Douglas to Arthur. His face was chalk white and his fists were clenched.

"I - I - I'm sorry!"

He turned his back and began to walk away with increasing speed.

Douglas turned on James.

"If I was you, son, I would hurry up and leave very quickly! Because you are going to need every spare second to get away from me!"

He hurried off after Martin.

_A/N: Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don__'__t own Cabin Pressure._

Chapter Two

Douglas eventually found Martin in the fire crew break room, also known as the Hose and Hydrant, a rather illegal homemade pub set up by Douglas for anyone who worked at the airfield.

He was sat at the long table used as the bar with his head in his hands.

George, the unfortunate engineer who had dealt with James Morton earlier, looked infinitely relieved when he saw Douglas and hurried over to him.

"What's going on?" he asked in a hushed voice. He jerked his head towards Martin. "When he came in I thought he was going to try and shut us down again."

"What's he been doing?" Douglas asked.

"Nothing! He's just been sitting there and staring into space. He hasn't said a word either. Did he land with the breaks on again? Because if he has - I mean, we all make silly mistakes sometimes; he shouldn't let it get to him. I remember once when I -"

"Have you just come off duty, George?" Douglas interrupted.

"Yeah, actually. Did you see that captain from Raven Charters? I didn't like him one bit."

"Mmm. Why don't you give us ten minutes, okay,?"

"Oh, yeah, fine," muttered the snubbed engineer and waltzed off to some other corner of the airfield.

Douglas set down a stool beside Martin and for a moment they both stared blankly at the wall.

"How did you know about the Hose and Hydrant?" Douglas asked.

"Dirk the Groundsman told me."

"Dirk? Really? I thought he hated everyone so much that he can only grunt at us."

"He likes me. Hates you."

"Ah," said Douglas and then lapsed into silence. He drummed his fingers on the table top. He took a deep breath: "So, is it true, then?"

"Yes," Martin replied wearily, "I really do hear voices."

"What is it like?"

"Like…" Martin trailed off, thinking. "It's like being stuck in an airport with all flights cancelled indefinitely - with Arthur. Ten Arthurs! All talking at once. Friendly, but still Arthur-ish."

"Nasty."

Although, the two pilots laughed loudly, the sniggering quickly petered out.

It was a rare occurrence, but Douglas wasn't really sure what to say or do. From his point of view the man sitting next to him was now completely different. A stranger. Not only that, but Douglas couldn't quite bring himself to believe that Martin had managed to hide such an incredible secret for all these years. And as a pilot! He shook his head. How could he not have noticed something?

"Are you hearing voices now?"

Douglas knew he was being blunt in asking such a question, but there didn't seem to be any better way of putting it. Besides which, he felt slightly betrayed by the man whom he considered a friend.

Martin hesitated; for his part he was feeling dazed by it all. The secret which had kept so close to his heart had been cruelly ripped out into the light and displayed for all to see. Yet, he felt strangely light-headed about the whole business. He recalled the bad dreams he occasionally had about this very situation, feeling as though he was being asked to read from a script. Maybe it was just another dream.

"Yes," he finally said. "Well, just faint whispers. I can barely hear them over all the other noises."

"And what are they saying?"

"That's a very personal question," Martin replied gruffly, and feeling disappointed. "Don't ask."

"Sorry."

Martin rubbed his forehead. He forced a smile.

"I wish Carolyn would hurry up and tell me that I'm fired. I'm getting tired of waiting."

"It may not come to that," lied Douglas.

"If I'm lucky I might be able to find work in a supermarket somewhere. There's a girl who works in the Sainsbury's opposite the Fitton roundabout - she stacks the shelves whilst telling customers off for staring at her. I haven't seen her lately, maybe they moved her out back. Maybe they'll give me her job. I don't think they'll let me on the meat counter, not with all those knives."

"What about your van?"

"I can't afford to keep it much longer. It keeps breaking down."

There was another awkward pause.

"Why didn't you tell us?" asked Douglas.

"Because I'm not idiot. I knew that I could loose my job and my license even if I told anyone."

"But, you told James Morton."

"I thought he was my friend. He was my friend.

But, then a month after I started the voices started to get louder, telling me to leave the company. Turns out they were right in a way. They were becoming more of a distraction, and someone was bound to notice. So, I told James in confidence why I was a little distracted. I could still do my job, but I just wanted to explain myself. But, James didn't like it. He said he felt unsafe to fly with me. He told our boss and she asked me to leave. She didn't want to report me to the CAA, but gave me the chance to go somewhere else and that's how I ended up here."

Douglas tapped his fingers again and then stood up. He looked guiltily at Martin.

"I'm not sure that I want to fly with you," he said, quietly. He walked steadily to the door. "I'm just being honest. Sorry."

_A/N: Douglas! _

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I don__'__t own Cabin Pressure._

Chapter Three

Carolyn had already been rehearsing in her head the two possible speeches she would have to spout out at her abnormal pilot. She found herself giving more consideration to the former, more negative, more _likely_ one.

"I'm sorry, Martin. But, you do understand, don't you? Of course you do. Should I speak up? Write all this down? Talk more loudly and slowly in patronising tones? We can't have a pilot who hears voices! We just can't! By the way, do you know any other captains who might like to take your place? Wipe your feet on the way out."

"How can I possibly do that when I haven't even come in yet?" drawled Douglas, stepping over the threshold. "I take it that you're drafting out the final version of your farewell speech to Martin? Glad you've decided so quickly. It's heart-warming."

"I don't want to fire him, Douglas, but," Carolyn shook her head, " - am I making the right decision?"

Douglas sat down heavily in the chair opposite. He rubbed his hands slowly together as he weighed up his next answer. Frown lines creased his forehead.

"Yes, I think you probably are," he said, eventually. "I know you are. If during mid-flight he suddenly…well, I wouldn't know what to do. And he's always been twitchy at times, moments where he doesn't seem to have been paying attention. I could just be imagining that though."

"How is he?"

"Looking like a man whose darkest secret has just been discovered and he knows he's about to loose the one job he loves and lives for."

They both stared into space for a moment, contemplating the distasteful task ahead of them. Neither was looking forward to it. Finally, Carolyn thumped the table hard with her fist.

"Right. Let's not drag this out any longer. Bring him in."

Douglas stayed where he was

"There is another option," he said, softly.

Carolyn looked quickly at him. She knew that tone of voice and was expecting to see the smug _I Have The Ideal Solution To All Our Problems _look which he wore so often. But, it wasn't there. Instead he looked grave, almost disappointed with himself as if the plan wasn't up to his usual standards. But, Carolyn was interested nevertheless; anything was worth a shot.

"Oh?"

"We could do what Raven Charters did. And not inform the CAA. You could give him a glowing reference and let him move on."

Carolyn sank back into her chair, deflated. She closed her eyes.

"Yes, but then I could be pushing a potentially dangerous pilot onto some unsuspecting airline. We might as well just keep him here and keep a close eye on him. Which we can't and won't do."

"Oh, so he's dangerous now?" echoed Douglas, raising his voice. "You always used to tell clients that he was the "safe" pilot."

Carolyn snapped her eyes open and sat up straight.

"And you're the one who just admitted that you wouldn't know what to do if he flipped out half-way across the Atlantic Ocean!" She and Douglas glared at each other. "Let's be clear on this: the only reason we're discussing this at all is because we both think that Martin is an unsafe pilot and is unable to do his job. He kept it from us, he's had a good run of things, but no more. He didn't tell me about this at the interview. He's kept it from us. He has as good as lied to us. It's over."

ooooo

While Carolyn and Douglas were in the office looking for a solution, Arthur was in Gertie searching for Martin. His quest was over long before Carolyn and Douglas completed theirs.

He sat down in the co-pilot's seat.

"What're you doing in here, Skip?"

"Nothing," Martin shrugged. "Just having one last look, I guess. I know that sounds pretty stupid."

"Yeah," Arthur agreed. "That is stupid."

"Oh, thanks!"

"No, I mean it's silly to say goodbye. Not when you're going to see Gertie again next week."

Martin took a deep breath and composed himself. It was never easy trying to explain things to Arthur, but he was going to have a go at least.

"Arthur, you do realise that this is serious? I hear voices. Doesn't that bother you in the least?"

Arthur looked blank for a moment, then: "No. Not really. It's a bit weird, but it's not as though I can hear them, so it's no big deal."

"What? No, just listen, Arthur. I might loose my job."

"No, you won't, Skip! You're brilliant! Why would Mom fire you?"

"I'm not brilliant! I'm - I'm mad." Martin stared at Arthur for a moment. "But, well, it's not as though it's ever really affected me. And I have been hearing them since I was fourteen. It's not like I go around suddenly shouting in the middle of crowds or telling people I'm the brother of Jesus Christ."

Then, for the second time that day, Martin was asked _the_ question.

"So, what is it like?"

Martin groaned and considered ignoring Arthur altogether.

"Skip?"

"To start with the voices are real," Martin intoned. All through his life people had asked that question and he was running out of ways to explain it.

"Really?"

"I can actually hear them from outside my own head and I have no control over what they say. They are really there. Only they come from inside, up here," his said, tapping his forehead. "Most of the time I can only hear the sound of people whispering, and I can't make out what they're saying. And if I ask them to be quiet so I can concentrate then I stop hearing them all together."

"You actually talk back to them? And have conversations with them?"

"Ye-es," Martin replied, a little hesitatingly.

Arthur made a good audience, full of rapt, eager attention and Martin was starting to get into the swing of his lecture.

"I haven't actually spoken to them for the past few weeks. It's probably not a good idea for me to ignore them, but it takes effort and with all the jobs we've been doing I just been too tired."

A phone rang from somewhere. Martin pulled out his mobile.

"Uh, hello, Catlin…Sorry, I haven't had chance to call you…no, I am fine. Well, actually I'm - what? How you can possibly know? How do you do that?"

With a wary glance at Arthur he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"No, you don't have to come over," he hissed. "No, please don't do that! I can handle this! Catlin?"

But, apparently Catlin had already hung up.

ooo

Martin had foolishly imagined his older sister to be many miles away from where he was, but, as it at happened, at the time of the phone call Catlin was actually just outside the gates of Fitton Airfield.

For the past three weeks now Martin had been ignoring her phone calls (not that she called very often) as well as any attempts of communication from their older brother, Simon. He had made no effort himself to contact them, which was very un-Martin and, therefore, a cause for concern.

It was not only that which brought Catlin out to Fitton. Tired of leaving messages on his mobile and hearing the answer-phone on the land line clicking in, Catlin had called his landlady instead. The conversation was brief, but informative. The aggrieved woman was most upset that Martin had cruelly blanked her last week when they had met just outside the front door.

"He looked straight through me!" she had moaned.

That was all Catlin needed to know. She thanked the woman, promised to pass on the grievance onto the wrongdoer with the intention of an apology being offered from the guilty party to the injured one, and promptly hung up with relief.

She tapped her phone against her sharp, white teeth thoughtfully.

All evidence was pointing to Martin withdrawing socially - as ominous a danger sign of an upcoming crisis as the ocean tide pulling back before a tsunami.

On the other hand: Martin was Martin, and his dear landlady was prematurely deaf (Catlin had resorted to shouting to down the phone) and over sensitive to any kind of social inadequacy - something Martin had always suffered from!

It was more than probable that he had said hello, but had been overly eager in escaping the conversation and hadn't waited around long enough to see if the woman had actually heard him.

Catlin smiled to herself.

As to the _telephone silence_ - just how busy was MJN these days? And Icarus Removals? Could it be that he had actually been too busy (and too forgetful!) to call back?

She smiled again. That was like Martin.

However, there was no point taking risks and her instinct was telling her that her presence was going to be needed. Maybe, it was time to finally see where her brother worked.

She drove into Fitton the very next day and when she reached the airfield decided to give Martin one last try to answer her call. She hadn't expected anything and was surprised when he picked up.

"Uh, hello, Catlin," her brother had mumbled. "Sorry, I haven't had chance to call you."

So, he had realised he was missing calls, and actually apologised for it. Catlin nodded to her self. The signs were looking better. Maybe he was okay after all. Maybe she should just go home.

"How are you?" she asked.

"No, I am fine."

Catlin frowned. He had answered her question, but the reply was mismatched and voiced in a flat tone. She pondered it's meaning for a second and then her heart sank.

"Well," Martin began. "Actually, I'm -"

"They know, don't they? You told them. And now you're about to be fired and loose your licence."

"How you can possibly know?"

"Oh, Marty!"

"How do you do that?"

Catlin sighed. "It's okay. I'll come over and talk to your boss. What's her name?"

"No, you don't have to come over," Martin hissed.

"Don't worry. I can look her name up on the website. I'll call ahead and let her know I'm coming. Goodbye."

And she hung up and dived straight onto the MJN website on her smart phone where she was slightly amused by the animated line of dancing aeroplanes.

ooo

She was a tall, slim, attractive woman with a hard, no -nonsense face. The straight, dark orange hair which fell down her back as she climbed out of the car, gave Carolyn a subconscious inkling of her identity long before she had held out a hand to introduce herself.

"Catlin Crieff," she stated. "I'm Martin's sister."

Carolyn blinked and shook the younger woman's hand briefly. She was starting to feel that she was completely out of control of the situation. Only ten minutes ago she had been in her office with Douglas deciding on the fate of her company's only captain, when the phone had rung.

Ooo

_10 minutes ago_

A monotonous woman had stated that she would like to meet the CEO of MJN air to discuss the unfair dismissal of Martin Crieff.

Carolyn's face had hardened. She covered the mouth-piece and said to Douglas in disbelief, "He's hired a lawyer!"

Douglas raised an eyebrow. "That's fast work. You haven't even fired him yet."

"I'll give him a fight if he wants one!"

Carolyn returned to the phone.

"When would you like to meet?" she asked. "What? As soon as I can get outside? Very well….Yes, goodbye."

ooo

Outside, Carolyn blinked again. It was true, she had been expecting a lawyer, not his sister! Was his sister a lawyer?

"Yes, I guessed you must be his sister," Carolyn lied and thinking quickly. She gestured towards to Catlin's head. "The hair colour gave me a bit of a clue."

"It always does. However, I trust that you haven't guessed that in a formal situation, it would of course, be Dr. Crieff. I am a psychiatrist."

"Ah," said Carolyn numbly. Was a psychiatrist better or worse than a lawyer?

"But, obviously this is purely family business and because I'm sure we will be the best of friends, Catlin will do just fine. May I call you Carolyn? Or would you prefer Ms. Knapp - Shappey?"

"Carolyn will do."

"Good. I would like to wrap this up quickly if you don't mind, Carolyn." Catlin smiled broadly. "I'm rather busy as I'm sure you are as the CEO of MJN. Please show me to your office and gather your staff. This shouldn't take more than ten minutes."

"Ye-es," Carolyn agreed, reluctantly. She had no idea what Catlin was going to do or say, but something in her voice made her believe that it would only take ten minutes.

_A/N: I can't wait to find out what Martin's family is actually like in the Wokingham episode in series four!_

_Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I don't own Cabin Pressure._

Chapter Four

When they reached the office, Carolyn sent Douglas out to fetch Arthur and Martin. But, before he left he couldn't resist staring unashamedly at Catlin.

"Good grief, you're a Crieff!" he exclaimed, and then quickly added, "Sorry, I'll never say that again."

"I have heard that one before," Catlin admitted. "Was it the hair?"

"The nose."

"Ah." She was staring at Douglas with equal interest. "You must be First Officer Richardson."

"Martin's mentioned me."

"No, your name is on the website. And because MJN only has two pilots and one of them is my brother and because you are wearing the insignia of a First Officer -"

"The process of elimination was a simple one."

"Exactly."

They smiled at one another.

Carolyn looked annoyed. "Hurry up, Douglas."

He would have left, but Catlin spoke once again.

"Do you know what else is obvious to me?" she asked.

"No, what?"

"From the mark on your finger I can see that you were married, but, now, recently divorced. From the way you were smiling at me, I'd guess that you've been married more than once. Twice?"

"Three, actually."

"Ah, yes, of course. The watch strap. Anyway, you were also once a drinker and have been sober for about ten years?"

"And still going strong."

"But, from the way you talk and hold yourself you went to a public school. Therefore, you should be nearing retirement in a larger airline, but you're not. You're here. At bottom." She looked over her shoulder. "No offence, Carolyn," she said, before turning her attention back to Douglas. "You've fallen from grace, haven't you? But, for what? Not the drinking. All pilots like to think of themselves as boozing kings of the sky, but a professional would never let it comprise regulations." She broke off from her monologue to stare, puzzled, at the ceiling. "It's admirable how a good pilot is able to keep his weaknesses from affecting his work, isn't it?"

Douglas shifted uncomfortably, but Carolyn was watching Catlin with sudden respect. Not many people could shut Douglas up.

"You've made your point," he said. "Can I go now?"

"No. You drank because you were bored, but I can see that you are not the type of man who deals with his problems properly. You replaced one addiction with another. Drugs? No, too risky. Gambling? More exciting, and more likely, but not with two divorces behind you and, I suspect, a child. Who else but a child would buy their father cuff links with happy faces engraved on them? And who else but a loving father would wear them? No, I think smuggling - an exciting, profitable, practically victimless crime."

They were both staring hard into each other's eyes now, but neither would back down, and, still Catlin carried on.

"You were caught, and should have been sent to prison with your pilot's licence torn up into confetti and, yet, here you are. A second chance. Good for you. I sincerely mean that because I can see from the guilty look in your eye that you are a good man and because you know that you are a safe pilot despite your past; not that many clients would agree with that.

Now, I have made my point. Please go and fetch the others. And don't tell Martin I'm here. I want it to be a surprise."

Douglas nodded and left the room, thinking hard. He had taken Catlin's point and knew that she was right in many ways.

He was on his way to the Hose and Hydrant through the hanger when he spotted Martin and Arthur locking up Gertie.

"Carolyn wants to see everyone in the office," he said, briskly.

"Good!" said Arthur. "I love staff meetings."

Douglas waited for Arthur to bound on ahead when he caught Martin's arm.

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly. "About what I said earlier. About not feeling safe flying with you."

"It's okay," Martin muttered, staring at the ground. "I wouldn't if it was the other way around."

"No, I mean it's not true! Look, we've flown together for years and survived. And we've been thrown into more bizarre situations than this. It's just that I've never met anyone who has your problem and…it's outside my sphere. So, you're a pilot who hears voices? Fine! Why not? I'm sure MJN can survive it."

"Except that Carolyn is going to fire me for sure."

"Don't worry, everything is going to be okay. Trust me."

Martin narrowed his eyes at Douglas.

"What have you got planned?" He sounded hopeful.

"I can't tell you. Just go into the office; you'll see."

ooo

Martin groaned loudly when he entered Carolyn's office and saw Catlin sitting on the edge of the desk. He gave her a loaded look, but Catlin smiled sweetly back at him. Martin threw up his hands in defeat and threw himself heavily into the nearest chair, staring darkly at the wall. Douglas was to discover later on that non-verbal conversations had been completely normal for the Crieff siblings as children. Even as adults they knew each other too well to bother much with actual words.

He himself sat in the chair next to Martin, while Carolyn was seated in her swivel chair behind the desk. Arthur hovered uncertainly. Catlin patted the space next to her, pushing some papers out of the way. Arthur dropped himself down eagerly.

"You'll have to forgive my little brother," Catlin began, as Martin continued to pluck flakes of peeling paint off the brick work. "He always sulks when I interfere."

"Very honest, isn't she?" Douglas muttered.

"You've no idea," Martin mumbled back.

"Anyway," Catlin continued. "I'm here to persuade everyone that Martin should be allowed to stay -"

Carolyn snorted.

Arthur shot his hand up. "I think Martin should be allowed to stay!"

"For what reason?"

"He's brilliant!"

Martin shook his head, hiding behind a hand.

"Good!" Catlin approved. "Douglas, I apologise for being so brutal earlier, but what do you think?"

Douglas shrugged. "I don't really know much about hearing imaginary voices, but I think we can manage."

Catlin rested her chin on top of clasped hands. "And what about you, Martin? You know that from now on you are going to have to be so much more honest about things - if you want to continue being a pilot that is. Do you want to stay with MJN?"

"I do," he said, quietly.

"Then we are getting somewhere. However -

"Hang on!" Carolyn interrupted. "Don't I get a say in all of this? It is my company after all!"

"Of course," said Catlin. "I saved you till last because your decision is the most important one of all. What you say goes. It doesn't matter what I say, or what Douglas thinks, or what Martin wants, or what…" she glanced at Arthur.

"Arthur," he smiled.

"Hello! None of that really matters. But, first of all, you deserve an apology, I think, from Martin. He betrayed your trust and I can see that you're upset. I can understand that because not only did Martin fail to tell you something important at the interview, but I also suspect that Icarus Removals isn't as busy as Martin would have liked you believe." She shot a sharp glance at her brother who was busy looking at the ceiling.

"What is she talking about?"

Martin stood up and cleared his throat.

"I am truly sorry, everyone," he said, glancing around the room. Carolyn remained stony faced. "But, please understand that I couldn't have told you. I wouldn't have been given the job."

"But, what did Catlin mean about your van job, which I have so kindly been allowing you to take time off for just so you can earn a bit of cash?"

"I -" Martin began and sat back down again. "Never mind."

"Never mind?"" Carolyn choked.

Catlin stepped in.

"I'm sorry, but as loath as Martin is to admit it, there are times and will be times when he might need a bit of time off to himself. Normally, someone like Martin would be told that a low-stress job is what they need, because, unfortunately, stress has a tendency to make the voices worse. They are recommended to take time on a daily basis relaxing. Which Martin does not do, not with two busy jobs."

Carolyn glared at Martin. "So, every time you've said you had a van job, you've actually been at home watching the TV all day!"

"No!" Martin protested. "Look, I promise that I've only used the van as excuse twice since I've been with MJN. Only twice! And only because I felt I really needed to. I fully admit that I didn't think it would okay to fly on those two occasions. And I defiantly wasn't relaxing. I mean - do - do you have any idea how draining it is trying to not react to anything the voices inside your head say? I'm sorry, but I just couldn't carry on."

"After Boston and Qikiqtarjuaq," said Douglas.

"What?"

"Am I right? The two times you were referring to. It was after the Boston and Qikiqtarjuaq trips."

"Yes," Martin admitted, bitterly. "Well done. You have me all figured out."

"Yes, well done," said Catlin.

"You were acting a little stranger than usual on those trips. I almost feel bad about taping a lemon to the top of your hat."

"Almost, but not quite?"

"Goodness me, no! If we all want things to carry on as they've always have, then I can't possibly treat you any differently."

"Okay, fine!" Carolyn interrupted. "So, you needed the time off. I willing to believe that, Martin. But, it still proves my point, doesn't it? That I can't possibly keep a pilot like you. It's just not done." She sighed and shook her head. "Just tell me all about it."

"What? Now?"

"No! At 8.30 am sharp, next December!"

"Go on, Martin," said Catlin. "They need to understand."

Martin swallowed, turning pale.

_You have to run! Just get out! _shouted Silver, a teenage female. She had been in his head from the very start.

_Don__'__t tell them anything!_ yelled his father.

_A/N: Silver and Dad finally make an appearance!_

_Thanks for reading! _


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: The finale part! Thanks should go to my sister WikketKrikket for giving me ideas, proof reading it, encouraging me and telling me to put it up. We have a lot of fun sharing ideas and swapping jokes about Cabin Pressure. So, if you like Cabin Pressure please check out Fly Away Home and Christmas Wrappings. You won't be disappointed. Thank you._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Cabin Pressure._

Chapter Five

Carolyn ran a hand through her white hair.

"So, Martin, are you just going to sit there?" she asked. "What is it like hearing voices?"

Martin shook his head, trying to organise his thoughts.

"Martin?"

_Go! Martin, run! Just get out! _shouted Silver.

_Don__'__t say a word!_ bellowed his father.

"Uh, well, it all started…"

_Why are you doing this? You__'__ll know they__'__ll fire you._

Martin blinked hard, trying to clear his head. Silver and his father were never normally this loud, this distracting. The sweat prickled on his hands. He was starting to flail.

"I was fourteen, when Mom died. And, uh- "

_And, uh -? Snappily put. This is going so well!_

Great! Now the sarcastic voice was joining in. It was a fairly new voice who yet to introduce himself. Martin had christened him Donald. No doubt Arnold would show up at any moment to offer his words of wisdom.

"I had a part-time job and all my schoolwork to try to deal with."

_Noo! It hurts! Martin, stop please,_ Silver cried loudly. She was in pain. She was an emotionally fragile personality and had told Martin regularly she felt responsible for his, _their__'__s_, mothers death. She just couldn't bear to talk about it.

The room started to spin slowly. Martin collapsed back into his chair, giving up. He couldn't do it. Not with Silver crying in agony and his father's shouting.

Through blurred eyes Martin could see that he had blown it. Everyone was looking at him with the there's-a-madman-in-the-room look.

Catlin came into view as she crouched in front of him.

"Take a few deep breaths," she said, calmly. "Arthur, fetch some water, please."

"Yeah, right away."

Catlin lent close to Martin's ear.

"Grow up, Dad!" she whispered. "And keep the others in line! It's very distracting for poor Martin!"

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Martin mumbled.

"They listen to me, though!"

And she was right. The voices all suddenly settled down.

_I just want you to be safe, _said Father. _But, if you really want this, then carry on. And don__'__t stutter._

"And Silver?"

_I__'__ve got her, don__'__t you worry, son. _

_I__'__m okay, Martin_, Silver sniffed. _I__'__m sorry. Go for it! I can cope if you want to tell them._

Martin sat up straight and cleared his throat.

"Like I was saying - I started to feel spacey. Not just light-headed, but as if I wasn't really there or that nothing was real. I began to hear a girl crying during the night and thought it was just the neighbours. She sounded muffled. But, then the voice became louder and clearer, in the same room as me, shouting my name."

_I had to get your attention somehow!_

"I was withdrawn and people thought I was just grieving until I started shouting back at the voice."

_I__'__m sorry I scared you back then._

"Eventually, Dad dragged me to the doctors. I was seen by a psychiatrist and a social worker."

_And little good it did you! _

"I was told that I was suffering from psychosis. It's a general term for loosing contact with reality. I was too young for them to want to give me an official diagnosis."

"Do you have one now?" asked Carolyn.

"No."

Arthur came in at this point and handed Martin a glass of water. It worried Martin that inside he could feel Silver perk up the way she always did when Arthur showed up.

Carolyn raised an eyebrow.

"Martin has suffered only one serious psychotic episode in his lifetime," said Catlin. "And that was his first when he was fourteen. And that also was the only time that he has ever taken mood-stabilising drugs. Since then the voices have been fairly continuous, but kind, causing him no distress. So, therefore, no drug treatment and no professional therapy has been required. Neither has he ever stayed in a psychiatric hospital. I'm afraid that some people just hear voices."

"I imagine that's quite frustrating for a psychiatrist," put in Douglas.

"I used to conduct psychology experiments on him. That was enough."

Arthur looked up. "You're a psychiatrist?" he gasped. "Are you Martin's psychiatrist?"

"No. I'm his sister."

"What? Really?"

"But, can you do your job?" asked Carolyn, once again trying to steer the conversation back away from the irrelevant.

"Yes, you know I can! It took me some time, but eventually I did learn how to talk to the voices in my head. At first they didn't want to listen. They would talk about me, but never directly to me. But, once I did the voices became a lot easier to cope with. They can even be helpful at times."

"Such as?"

"Well, the word games Douglas and I play…"

Douglas turned to him. "But, you always loose!"

"I didn't say they were any good!"

_I__'__m really good!_

_Shut up, Arnold!_

_Can I join the cabin crew now?__"_asked Silver.

"No!" Martin snapped.

"What?" asked Douglas.

"Not you!"

"Does this mean Martin has been cheating all this time?" asked Arthur.

"No," said Martin.

"Yes," said Douglas and Catlin together.

Martin shook his head again.

"Anyway, I know how strange this is. But, Catlin was wrong about one thing."

"Really?" asked Catlin.

"About taking time to relax." Martin took a deep breath. "Some people have therapists, others go to support group sessions, some create gardens or look after pets. I fly planes. That's my therapy. My job is humping boxes into my Dad's old van. But, flying planes is my hobby and…it's my therapy. That's what keeps me sane. There's nothing I love to do more. If I didn't have that then I really would break down."

Carolyn tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. Catlin caught Martin's eye and nodded - keep going!

"Physically flying the plane and then concentrating on the word games, distracts me. I rarely hear the voices then and if I do I can barely hear them. They don't make me unsafe."

Carolyn stared down at the desk. She nodded slightly.

Catlin sensed victory.

"If it would help put your mind at rest Martin could give you a checklist of early danger signs of a crisis for you watch out for and you would be perfectly within your right to insist that he seek help or take time off."

"Using the word crisis doesn't really help the situation," said Carolyn. She held Martin's gaze for a long time. "Very well, you can stay."

"Hooray!" leapt up Arthur.

"Brilliant!" cried Catlin, for she also loved that word.

Douglas slapped Martin's back. "Well done, Martin! And…everyone else."

Martin closed his eyes, suddenly feeling absolutely drained.

_Congratulations, Marty_, laughed Silver.

Martin's shoulder tingling as though someone was squeezing it.

_I__'__m happy for you_, said his father.

_Well, that was boring_, moaned Donald.

_Really? I was on the edge of my seat,_ said Arnold.

He opened his again. Carolyn was saying something.

"I won't inform the CAA," she said. "But, Martin, I'm not joking - I want that checklist. And you need to tell me straight away if the voices start to get worst or if you feel you need the time off. I don't care how embarrassed you may feel."

"It would be a good idea if Douglas and Arthur had a copy too," said Catlin.

Martin was looking gloomily out of the window that looked across the hanger.

"Raven Charters is still here."

"And will be for some time. Did you not hear the ambulance?" asked Carolyn.

"No-o."

"It was a shame, but, just after you left poor, Captain Morton banged his head against the side of the plane. Knocked himself out."

Martin grinned. "Shame."

"I don't think so," said Catlin, looking suddenly sheepish. "He's a horrible man. He's never liked Martin, not since I turned him down all those years ago."

ooo

Outside, Catlin pointed a stern finger at Martin. "I want you to remember that you're not mentally invincible. You have a lifelong condition which will always mean that you have to take more time in caring for your own wellbeing than most people."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Martin. From now on your boss and co-workers are going to be watching and if they tell you that you're acting differently then you need to listen to them. You have trust them if they are going to trust you. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Yes, I understand - and?"

"Yes, I understand and thank you, so much, Catlin, for saving me my job!"

"You're welcome. I have to go now. Simon is about to find out that Rachel is having another affair."

"What? Really? How can you possibly know that?"

Catlin smiled mischievously. "I know everything. Goodbye, Martin."

"Goodbye, Catlin."

It was a cold, but bright day in Fitton. For now the whisperings had disappeared. It was going to be a good day.

_A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone!_


End file.
